Intellectual Exercises
by Fox Murphy
Summary: When James told Sirius they would investigate Remus' routine disappearances, he had been expecting some after hours mischief, perhaps a mystery or two. He certainly had not expected to stumble upon a startling secret. Marauder's Era, third year. Oneshot.


A/N - I think it's been too long since my last Marauder story, and I remedy that situation with this lovely oneshot, found while cleaning out old files. Apparently I managed to save the thing in the wrong place, as this was largely finished several months ago. Anyway, all cleaned up and ready to go I bring you a rather key Marauder moment, set somewhere in the fall term of third year....

* * *

The dormitory belonging to the third year boys of Gryffindor House presently resembled a library that had reached capacity and exploded, scattering books and parchments across the room with careless abandon. Anyone who entered the room was likely to either injure themselves trying to find a functional path to and from the beds or worse, be under the horrific misconception that the third year boys had begun to study with great enthusiasm. The latter concerned James Potter far more than any other potential crisis that would result from being caught with so many books, including the slight matter that well over half of the restricted section had now taken up residence in the tower dorm.

"What's going to happen if they find out we've got all these books?" Peter Pettigrew's voice came from somewhere on the opposite side of Sirius' bed. James thought that might have been where the second half of the encyclopedia set had been deposited, but he was no longer entirely sure. Sirius Black himself appeared from beneath a stack of books on magical plagues, too-long hair falling across his face.

"We'll just tell them a spell went horribly wrong. Surely they wouldn't think we'd take all these books for fun?"

"I should certainly hope not," James agreed firmly, abandoning his copy of 601 Magical Maladies. "We'd never live it down."

"We could always blame Remus," Peter finally showed himself, or at least the upper half of his face, blond hair sticking up at odd angles. Sirius sighed and shook his head, vanishing once more into the books.

"Unfortunately Peter, that would only work if Remus knew we had all these books. Which he in fact, does not."

Peter frowned, so far as James could tell, then returned to whatever he had been doing in the far corner without another word. Sirius was right, after all. Remus could generally be used as the reasonable explanation whenever books were required for purposes of less than good intent. Remus, however, had been gone since Wednesday on one of his excused and extended absences from school, and thus had not been present for the sacking of the library on Thursday night. Still, Peter had been correct to a certain point - Remus was the inspiration for the sacking, at least, if not a participant.

After three years of sharing a dormitory with the fellow, James had merely come to accept that Remus would disappear once a month with some poorly concocted excuse and would return a day or so later looking like he'd been severely beaten. Sirius, apparently, had spent the past three years being driven slowly mad at what he believed to be some great secret Remus refused to share. At some ungodly hour of Wednesday night, or more realistically some ungodly hour of Thursday morning, James had been woken by a scowling, bright eyed Sirius who insisted that they simply had to know where Remus was going. Half-asleep and supposing that Sirius was going to investigate whether anyone else agreed or not, James hit his best mate in the face with a pillow and said they would look into the matter later. Later had in fact meant Thursday night, when James' invisibility cloak had been converted into an invisibility sack. Sirius had been ecstatic, James had had to admit that the idea of a mystery intrigued him, and even Peter had eventually been persuaded to show some excitement. James figured that if all else failed, they could always just invent some mad theory and convince themselves that this was what was causing Remus to be away.

Of course, now they had reached Friday evening, Remus' return was imminent, and the dormitory was still flooded with books. James had not expected solving a mystery would be quite so difficult.

"Maybe he's got Falkirk Flu?" Peter offered, raising a book over his head. James squinted but still could not see whatever picture Peter was pointing at.

"What are the symptoms?"

"Well, lethargy, chills, muscle pain, oh....it says most people who have it break out in purple spots."

Somewhere behind Sirius' bed, a book was tossed against the wall with a solid thud as Peter abandoned the text entirely. James prepared to crack open a rather intriguing looking volume that had no title but appeared to be chained shut. He guessed Sirius had nicked this book sheerly because of the potential danger. A sudden triumphant shout, however, drew James' attention away from the book as Sirius rose once more above the pile of stolen tomes, one hardcover volume raised over his head.

"I've got it! Werewolf!"

"Where wolf?" Peter reappeared over the edge of Sirius' bed, frowning confusedly and his entire face visible this time.

"Werewolf," James corrected automatically, then gave a moment of thought to what he had just said. "Werewolf?"

"Werewolf," Sirius nodded emphatically. "I can prove it. And if I can't prove it, I can make up enough to make it mostly believable."

James rolled his eyes and tossed away the chained book, crossing his arms and turning his full attention to Sirius.

"Alright then Mr. Black. Prove it."

Sirius stood eagerly, holding the book out in front of him. James peered at the moving pictures and saw that the supposed answer had come from their own Defense Against the Dark Arts text.

"He's always gone once a month, he's always tired when he comes back."

"James is always tired when he gets back from Quidditch," Peter argued, having seated himself on the bed now. "I don't suppose you think he's a werewolf too?"

Admittedly, Peter had a point, though James was note entirely sure he appreciated having Quidditch compared to werewolves, no matter the reasoning.

"No," Sirius reached out with one hand and shoved Peter, sending the blond boy tumbling into a pile of books. "And don't sit on my bed. Anyway, he always looks sick, and he's got those funny scars."

"He said he was in a Muggle car accident," James knew he ought to keep arguing, but he could not help a flicker of interest at the prospect of Sirius being right. Undeterred, and perhaps even a bit more excited than before, Sirius began to count on his fingers.

"He also said that his rabbit died, and then his dog, and then a cat, and then more rabbits. I believe he's also lost eight to twelve grandparents at this point."

"Rubbish," Peter shook his head, "I think the count's up to at least fifteen grandparents."

"The point," here Sirius paused to send his best intimidating look in Peter's direction, a last ditch effort to silence further interruptions, "is that his excuses are flimsy at best."

No one bothered to argue this much defended and quite obvious point, and James motioned for Sirius to continue. Sirius of course did so, with great enthusiasm.

"So, the only logical conclusion is that Remus is disappearing once a month because he's a werewolf."

Silence echoed after this pronouncement, Sirius dropping the book so that he could properly place his hands on his hips and look appropriately smug. Peter bit his lip nervously, eyes flicking from James to Sirius to the books and back again. Reasonably, there were any number of other answers that were probably far more logical than the one Sirius had produced. None of them were half as interesting though, and certainly not as exciting. James had always preferred the exciting answers anyway.

"We've been sharing a dormitory with a dark creature for three years. Wicked."

James had been grinning broadly, intending to inspire some excitement of sorts, but based on the reactions of the other boys, he seemed to have failed slightly. Sirius' smug look faded a bit around the edges, and Peter frowned worriedly.

"Maybe you shouldn't say it like that, mate," Sirius suggested. "Sounds a bit..._bad._"

"Right," James shrugged, pushing his glasses back into place on his nose. "But he's still Remus."

Somehow that point seemed rather important, something that needed to be defended. Especially if James was considering Sirius' mad idea to an actual possibility.

"Of course he is," Sirius agreed hurriedly. With a flick of his wrist, Sirius brushed his hair out of his face and dropped to a seat on the floor, sending books scattering. "Not saying he isn't."

"And he hasn't exactly tried to eat us," Peter spoke at last. "Even though, this is of course a joke."

"Absolutely," Sirius nodded.

"Completely kidding," James said. Although, the idea was beginning to feel less like a joke and far more like an actual possibility. Based on the thoughtful expressions that Peter and Sirius currently wore, James was not the only one facing this dilemma.

"Remus is very nice after all," Peter went on, tugging absently on Sirius' bed curtains. "I don't imagine werewolves would be very nice."

"Probably not. I expect they'd be rather grumpy individuals. Always in a bad mood," James agreed.

"Suppose that makes a case for Snivellus being a werewolf as well?" Sirius snickered, grinning wickedly. James found himself snickering at the idea of Snape running about as a wolf with greasy fur, chewing up his Potions' books.

"Books, too," James snapped his fingers, and then, when he received only blank looks, "Remus is mad for books. Don't suspect werewolves would much enjoy the past time."

"Oh, I don't know," Peter sighed, face still impressively solemn, "I imagine they enjoy a copy of the Daily Prophet from time to time, maybe while taking afternoon tea."

James fell backward onto the bed, laughing so hard that tears gathered in his eyes. From the sound, Sirius had toppled over into another pile of books, bark-like laughter echoing off the walls.

"So of course, this means Remus couldn't be a werewolf," Sirius miraculously managed to recover first. "Hypothetically speaking."

"Course he couldn't be," James agreed, wiping his eyes as he finally managed to catch his breath. "Purely hypothetical."

"Only an experiment. A test," Peter offered, grinning broadly now and all trace of worry forgotten.

"An intellectual exercise," Sirius waved one hand in the air, then frowned abruptly, "No, that sounds too stuffy. Our intellects do not need exercising. They are already in perfect condition."

"A game then," James said matter of factly, "To challenge our impeccable intellects."

"What sort of game?"

No one moved, and for a moment, James would have sworn that no one breathed either, the silence in the room was so deafening. Peter had utterly frozen, hands clutched around Sirius' bed curtains, and Sirius himself lay atop a pile of books, gaping up at the doorway. James' fingers closed over the footboard of his bed, easy grin sliding into place as quickly as he could manage. Remus Lupin stood in the doorway, smiling softly and certainly seeming interested at the prospect of a game. James swore under his breath.

Unsurprisingly, Remus, who was rather sickly looking at the best of times, seemed to be once more a bit worse for the wear. Dark circles hung beneath his eyes, purple smears a sharp contrast to his pale skin. Dozens of half-healed cuts and scrapes covered Remus' face and neck, a particularly vicious looking one arching across his nose. James had seen him looking worse, admittedly, but not by much.

"What sort of game?" Remus repeated, still determinedly smiling. The part of James' mind that had ceased functioning for a moment abruptly reengaged, ordering him to speak up and quit gaping.

"Well...just sort of a...a puzzle, you see."

"I could use a good puzzle," Remus said, looking genuinely eager now. James swore again. Thankfully, Sirius' ability to speak returned.

"Dunno if it's the sort of puzzle you'd be interested in. Lots of...dark...things."

Remus arched an eyebrow, bending to retrieve one of the books that had been stacked beside the door.

"I can see that. Does anyone else know that the library has been relocated to our dormitory?"

"I rather hope not," Peter mumbled, still clinging to the bed curtains.

"Alright, so what's all this got to do with a puzzle?" Remus asked expectantly, and then, feigning offense, "You weren't trying to plan a prank without me were you?"

"Course not," Sirius shook his head, laughing and glancing desperately towards James. Unfortunately, James could not think of any possible way to escape this time. His exceptionally quick thinking seemed to have failed on this occasion, a fact which he was gravely concerned by.

"We..." James took a deep breath and then, forcing a laugh and another easy grin. "It's the funniest thing, actually. We were...trying to figure out where it is you go every month."

Remus stiffened slightly, but his smile stayed in place. Of the four boys in the dormitory though, Remus was the only one not laughing, or at least not attempting to.

"And what did you come up with?"

James was beginning to feel distinctly less amused by the whole process, and certainly wished he had just told Sirius to mind his own business. Perhaps if the evidence had not been quite so convincing, this might all be a good deal more funny.

"We ah...thought you might be a werewolf," Sirius leaned up his elbows, somehow managing to shrug from this position. He barked out another round of laughter, and James found himself laughing too, though the laughter died as he caught sight of Remus' face.

"Ridiculous though, isn't it?" Peter was saying, "Just a bit of fun."

Remus' smile had entirely vanished now, and his face had taken on a worried, guarded look. James knew, in that instant, that their joke had been no joke at all. On any other occasion, he might have been upset by this purely due to the fact that Sirius had been right and would never let them forget. Or perhaps maybe upset by the prospect that his friend was a werewolf. A dark creature. Something that children and even adults had nightmares about. But Remus was shy and quiet and funny and his friend, and just now that was most important. At the moment, James was not entirely sure what precisely he was feeling, though 'upset' seemed to register on some level or another. 'Shock' and 'worry' and 'sheer bloody panic' were all excellent contenders as well.

"Ridiculous," Remus murmured, dropping his bag to the floor and looking for a moment as though he might fall. "Excuse me."

He vanished behind the door faster than James had expected, feet pounding on the floor. Not really bothering to think, James slid off the bed feet first, stepping lightly around several piles of books and sprinting towards the door. The sound of paper rustling and hard steps on stone signaled that Sirius and Peter were moving as well.

"We were right!" Peter seemed to be in some sort of shock, that much was certain. "Merlin, we were right?"

"Apparently. Yes," Sirius was simply grinning, entirely too excited by all this in James' opinion. "Our brilliance knows no bounds."

"It would seem not," James agreed, not really paying much attention as he dashed through the hall in what he hoped was the direction Remus had gone. The bathroom door slammed somewhere ahead, and James knew he had guessed correctly. He slid to a stop, Sirius and Peter tumbling into him and knocking him into the door. All three spilled into the bathroom, the bright lights a bit blinding after so long in the lamplit room. James lay where he had fallen, effectively trapped beneath Sirius and Peter and finding breathing a bit of a challenge. Someone swore - Sirius, based on the word selection - and then the weight vanished and blessed air returned to James' lungs. Before pushing himself back to his feet, James took notice of a pair of beaten trainers in the third stall.

Wordlessly, James pointed in the direction of the stall, Sirius' eyes narrowing as he nodded. James led the way, not really putting too much effort into stealth, as they had already crashed through the doorway and spoiled any hope of surprise. Remus did not seem to be making any noise at all though, aside from a heavy sort of breathing. James sincerely hoped he was not crying. Werewolves he could handle, but crying best mates? Certainly not.

Sirius reached out and knocked against the stall door, drawing his hand back rapidly as soon as the noise was made. Nobody spoke, and James found himself staring at the floor, at his bare toes on the cold tiles, at Peter's clean socks and Sirius' mismatched pair. The quiet stretched on longer than was necessary, in James' opinion. Remus seemed to be trying to wait them out.

"Remus?" Peter tried now, halfway whispering.

From the other side of the door came a long-suffering sigh, and James could almost guess what sort of expression Remus would be wearing. He would be frowning a bit, mouth turned down at the edges, he would have almost-but-not-quite rolled his eyes, and his eyebrows would be raised.

"I'm not mad," was exactly what James had expected to hear, and based on the grin, Sirius had been expecting the same.

"That's a good start," James allowed.

"I suppose I should say that I've very much enjoyed being friends with you all," Remus continued as though he either had not heard or was simply ignoring James. Probably the latter.

"Are you dying?" Peter asked, earning shocked looks from James and Sirius. From Remus as well, as the lock slid back and the door opened just wide enough for Remus to stare at Peter.

"No, I'm not dying."

"You're talking like you are," Peter shrugged. "Past tense and all."

"I...no, I-" Remus spluttered, taken aback, but Sirius cut him off.

"Verb tenses aside, the small one has a point. Why are you talking like you're about to leave?"

"Because I am. I'm very sorry for not telling you, but I'm sure you can understand why," Remus sounded as though he had rehearsed this speech several times before, and this bothered James far more than the werewolf idea had.

"Just to be clear," James reached out and pushed the door open wider, "We are talking about you being a," here he glanced around, dropping his voice in case anyone might be listening, "werewolf."

Remus stiffened again, but slumped almost immediately, resignation evident as he nodded. James had never seen anyone look quite so defeated.

"Well, I can't say I'm thrilled you thought you needed to lie to us," James admitted, "But you don't have to worry about us saying anything."

"Not to anyone," Peter agreed rapidly, nodding and crossing his heart with one pudgy finger.

"Not even in the face of cruel or unusual torture," Sirius added, managing to look grave for the first time all evening. James wondered if this was merely another act of if Sirius finally understood the gravity of the situation. Either way, Remus looked at least marginally relieved.

"Thank you. If you'll excuse me then, I'll have to go pack."

"Pack?" Sirius frowned, blocking Remus' exit with one arm. "Why?"

"I don't expect you want me to stay," Remus smiled sadly.

"Then you clearly don't know us very well," James declared firmly. "Because I for one think it's wicked that you're a werewolf. I'd only be upset if you didn't stay."

Remus gaped for a moment, mouth opening and closing and no sound coming out.

"You're still Remus," Peter offered up James' earlier argument once more. "At this point, we sort of need you."

"So help me, if you reduce our quartet to a trio, I will personally track you down and bring you back," Sirius said. "We are Marauders man! All for one and one for all."

"That's musketeers, Sirius," Remus said wearily, mostly out of habit by this point. James took that as a good sign though. Sirius snorted, pushing his hair out of his eyes again.

"Semantics. The point remains. You're not leaving."

Remus stayed silent another moment or two, eyes wary and searching over the faces of the three boys. The expression held a faintly wolfish quality, though James was not entirely sure he liked that thought. Finally, Remus smiled, tired and worn face looking suddenly brighter.

"Thank you."

Another pause, then a rapid sort of group hug that was largely a tangle of arms and bodies, and then all four boys were shifting in place, coughing or clearing their throats. This might have been an occasion for hugging, but they had decided at the beginning of second year that hugs were not very marauderish at all and ought to be avoided. James supposed that in all fairness, none of them were really very good at keeping rules anyway.

"Ought to get back," Sirius gestured toward the doorway, "Before someone discovers our newly acquired library."

"How exactly do you intend to return all those books?" Remus asked, falling back into his usual role as the concerned one who worried too much. Sirius and Peter both laughed, walking ahead towards the door as James slung an arm over Remus' shoulder, grinning broadly.

"Much in the same way as we borrowed them. Although may I say it will likely be easier with four Marauders rather than three."


End file.
